


I just wanna survive

by blueslytherin



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hamilton is a dick, eliza schuyler/maria reynolds - Freeform, platonic mariliza, so is james reynolds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 18:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10950153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueslytherin/pseuds/blueslytherin
Summary: Maria Reynolds, Alexander Hamilton's former mistress, decides to pay his wife, Eliza Schuyler, a visit





	I just wanna survive

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in December and haven't edited it since then

Eliza Hamilton was numb.  
No, she was ashamed. Ashamed that her husband would cheat on her, and then dare to announce it to the world. Ashamed that people pitied her for Alexander’s terrible acts. Ashamed that one day her children would learn about their father’s betrayal through that cursed Reynolds pamphlet.  
She had kept a brave face throughout all of this. She had smiled and said, “No, it’s fine,” when people had offered their condolences. She had continued on with her life, head held high so people couldn’t tell anything was wrong. And perhaps her biggest accomplishment; talking to Alexander and telling him to get out, to leave for just one night. It was, after all, the least he could do for her.  
But now the children had gone to sleep. Alexander had gone away. And Eliza was alone.  
The first thing she had done was burn the letters he wrote her. Every last one. It was the only way she could let out her anger, prove that she wasn’t going to be a meek, obedient wife. Then, she had let loose all semblance of control, and drank her sorrows away.  
Now, the alcohol had worn off, and she was sitting in front of the fire, trying not to let the pain get to her. She thought about everything Alexander had ruined - her reputation, his career, her trust.  
She thought about the girl who seduced him - what was her name? Martha? Mary?  
It was one am, and poor Eliza was helpless, lost in her troubled thoughts.  
There was a soft rap on the door. She questioned why someone would be there so late, but didn’t give a damn about going to greet them. The knock came again, a little more forceful this time. Finally, out of fear it would wake the children, Eliza roused herself, took the lantern, and trudged to the door.  
The figure on her doorstep was shrouded in shadow. Eliza could make out a torn, faded scarlet dress that was once beautiful, and goosebumps up and down their arms.  
A strange feeling came over Eliza. She couldn’t quite tell if it was good or bad. “Are you okay?” she asked, not really caring if the figure responded.  
The figure stepped into the glow of the lantern, and her face was illuminated. Dark hair hung in limp curls. Pinprick shapes dotted her face. When she saw Eliza, she blushed deeply.  
“Mrs. Hamilton, “ The woman - more of a girl - spoke in a low, rasping voice. She curtsied low, her knees hitting the ground. “My name is Maria.” She paused, as if preparing herself for her next words. “Maria Reynolds.”  
She was frozen, brought back to that moment. Hearing the name had caused all the memories to come crashing down. Flipping through the yellowed letters hidden in Alexander’s bedroom. His face when he had said, “Dear, it’s alright. We’re going to get through this together.”  
She thought about the hurt in his eyes when she had replied, “I am not your dear.”  
“Ma’am?” The girl was still on her doorstep.  
Eliza still didn’t know why she let Maria in. She was her husband’s former mistress. Most women wouldn’t have done this, wouldn't want the sorrow and anger crashing down in one huge tidal wave, threatening to drown them. But there was something in the girl’s eyes. Something helpless.  
“You must be freezing. Please, come in.”  
Maria obliged, stepping in. Eliza led her to the parlor, and motioned for her to sit down. “Let me make you some tea.”  
She stepped away, grateful for the moment’s break. As the tea boiled, her thoughts ran wild. Why was the girl here, in her own home? She gathered up the tea, and her courage, and went back out to the parlor.  
She offered Maria a cup, and sat back down in her chair. Snow began to fall as the women sipped their tea.  
Eliza finally broke the stony silence. “If you’re looking for Alexander, he’s out of town.”  
Maria set her cup down. Swallowed once. Twice. “No, ma’am,” she said timidly. “I’m here for you.”  
She couldn’t respond.  
“Since Mr. Hamilton published that pamphlet, I’ve been scorned, attacked. It’s been especially hard on my daughter.” As Maria talked, her confidence seemed to grow. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”  
She fidgeted in her seat. “This must be hard for you. You didn’t ask for any of this. I caused this, all of it. And I’m truly, deeply sorry.”  
A single tear rolled down her cheek.  
When Eliza just sat there, not replying, Maria let out a small sigh. “I understand.” She moved her teacup out of her lap, and stood up to leave. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Hamilton.”  
She was shocked. No, astounded. Astounded that Maria had done this. The girl had come to apologize for the affair, the Reynolds pamphlet. She had felt bad and apologized for all of Alexander’s actions. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for her. And she couldn’t just let the girl leave.  
“Wait,” And as the girl turned around, Eliza truly looked at her for the first time that night. And when she looked closely, she was horrified at what she saw. Those pinprick marks on her face were bruises. And there was a smear of something that she hadn’t noticed before.  
“Maria, why is there blood on your face?”  
In a split second, a range of emotions - shock, embarrassment, and pure terror - passed through the girl’s face. She reached up and touched her forehead. When she brought it back, her fingers were stained red.  
The girl looked up. Fear bloomed in her eyes. “I-I-I banged into a-a-a cabinet.” Her shoulders started to shake. “Cut myself.”  
Eliza knew this wasn’t true. It was too brutal to be from a cabinet. “Please, tell me how you really got this.”  
She could see Maria’s mind whirling; why, Eliza didn’t know. Then, an idea, an outlandish, ridiculous idea bloomed in her mind. But no, there was no way it could be true. It was too cruel. “Maria. Please.”  
She reached for Maria’s hand, but the girl let out a little gasp, and flinched hard, jerking away at the last moment. Eliza grabbed onto her sleeve instead, and the gaudy fabric gave way, ripping the sleeve in two, and splitting the material down the girl’s torso.  
Huge bruises ran up and down Maria’s arms. They were a multitude of greys, purples, yellows; shades that shouldn’t be on a person’s skin. Many were fist sized, while others were tiny and clustered together like stars. Looking at it made Eliza sick to her stomach. 

Her stomach and chest were even worse. There were more bruises, hideous and bigger than the ones on her arms. But there were gashes too, the flesh around then torn and ragged. Many were oozing blood; some of it soaked into the dress. A bloody bandage was tightly wrapped around her waist, though it did little to lessen the flow. Thick scars crisscrossed her body. Eliza was mesmerized by the stark contrast of Maria’s otherwise smooth, pale skin.  
Eliza had only seen bruises and scars like this once before. Her childhood friend, Alice, had married a seemingly harmless man, but behind closed doors, he was a beast. She distinctly remembered Alice undressing, her bloody gashes, unnatural scars, and terrible, terrible bruises. She’d never seen Alice again. Eliza shook her head to clear the memory. Slowly, the dots connected. She was right. It would explain why Maria was so timid, so fearful. How Maria had so easily submitted to her husband’s will.  
She blinked, mustered up her courage, for false accusations could ruin their lives even more. “Maria. Did James Reynolds do this?”  
The girl avoided her gaze for a moment, her hair covering her eyes. The way her shoulders shook revealed that she was crying. Then she suddenly leaned over, and threw her arms around Eliza, who didn’t jump back at the girl’s touch. It told her all she needed to know. Instead, she drew the girl in, and wrapped her in a comforting embrace.  
They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. In most situations, this would be uncomfortable, but to Eliza, it was calming. She forgot about Alexander, and her responsibilities. All she could register was Maria’s head in the crook of her neck, hot tears pooling by her shoulder, and her own arms wrapped tightly around the girl’s frail, tense body.  
And when Maria whispered, “I can’t be strong anymore,” Eliza came undone.  
“Looks like both of our husbands were bastards.”  
Maria drew back. “What do you mean?”  
She found herself letting out her thoughts, all those secrets and speculations she’d vowed to never tell a soul. “When we were younger, Alexander was my hero. Now, he’s just a manipulator. He uses my own words against me. Toys with my emotions, my feelings, my morals.”  
“He told me that I never satisfied him. Never apologizes, never takes blame. Made me believe he was my only option. For a while, I asked myself if I was too sensitive, too weak. Now I realise.”  
She felt tears form, which shocked her. Yet she couldn’t stop talking. She’d pent up all these emotions for years, and now the dam had burst. “Alexander craves power, and he doesn’t care who he hurts to get it.” She was fully crying now, too far over the edge.  
As Eliza sobbed into her hands, Maria moved her chair closer, and put her arm around Eliza. The women clung to each other like lifelines. “It’s going to be alright.”  
This wasn’t right, she thought to herself. Poot Maria had been abused for years, and yet here she was, comforting Eliza. She had spilled her secrets to a complete stranger. And yet, she felt better. Maybe it was the warmth, the physical contact that she hadn’t felt in years. Or maybe it was the knowledge that someone else knew, that someone else was going through the same thing, and she wasn’t alone. Whatever it was, it gave her hope.  
Finally Eliza sat up, and wiped her tears away. “You have to get out of there. It’s not safe.” She stood up. “I know a good lawyer, Aaron Burr. He’ll help you.”  
“And what about you?” Maria said softly. “You’re no better off than I am.”  
“I’ll be okay. And, Maria, it’s all because of you. You’ve given me hope.”  
She pursed her lips. “I’ll stay with Alexander. Something tells me that there’s something better in store. For both of us. We just have to wait for it.”  
For the first time that night, Maria smiled. Her whole face seemed to change, lighting up in a way that warmed Eliza’s heart.  
They sat and talked for hours, mostly about small things, and Eliza was finally at peace.  
The girl stood up. “It’s late. I’d better go.” She fumbled with her torn dress.  
“Stay. Please.”  
Maria blushed. “I can’t.”  
“At least take these.” Eliza rushed across the room and snatched her favorite traveling cloak. She had Maria change into a spare dress, and slipped the cloak around her shoulders.  
“Thank you,” Maria said. “For everything.”  
Eliza took her hand. “If you need any help, I’m here for you. You don’t deserve any of this.”  
“Neither do you-”  
Eliza pressed a finger to Maria’s lips. “The point is, I’m here if you need a place to stay, some money, or even a friend.” She brought Maria’s hand to her own lips, gently kissing it.  
“You are an angel.” Maria blushed again. “Thank you so much.” With those words, she closed the door behind her.  
Eliza retook her seat. The sun was rising, its soft streaks of yellow and pink and orange spreading throughout the sky. A new day was coming.  
A new day. A new beginning. Another chance. She would stay with Alexander, take care of the children. Everything would be okay; she felt it in her bones. All because of a helpless young woman in a ragged dress standing on her doorstep.

**Author's Note:**

> I crave validation so pls comment


End file.
